


Rejoice in Youth

by TDaL



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Bat Family, Batfamily Feels, Gen, Magic, dick is a little shit, no one says no to tiny Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5142119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TDaL/pseuds/TDaL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick has been regressed to the age of four, now Bruce and the rest of the family has to look after him until he returns to his rightful age. If Bruce thought teenage Dick Grayson was unruly, nothing could prepare for the storm that is Dickie Grayson.</p>
<p>AKA</p>
<p>Dick cons his family into giving him hugs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rejoice in Youth

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Masteroftobi](http://masteroftobi.tumblr.com/) and her tiny cousin for supplying me with the shenanigans they get up to and giving me muse to write.

It was his son who contacted him over the comms.

This was normally not a concern in and of itself, considering that he had four sons, but Bruce always feared the worst when it was Jason who called.

Jason hardly ever contacted him in the first place and always got himself into bigger messes than he ought to.

“B. You might wanna come over to fifty-second. ASAP.”

The night had been going well enough. Together with Damian he had thwarted several muggings and a robbery. Besides that, it was also enjoyable that he was able to spend time with his youngest son.

It wasn’t a secret that he and Damian often butted heads – Alfred claimed it was because of their similar personalities and, honestly, Bruce couldn’t see it – and the only time that they seemed to get along was when they were out in the field. Patrolling the night as they kept the streets of Gotham safe.

His hand went up to the side of his cowl as he responded. “Red Hood. What seems to be the problem?”

There was a pause on the other side of the connection and it was enough to make Bruce stop in his tracks. Jason was very opinionated. He never minced his words when he spoke with Bruce. The silence was very uncharacteristic.

In his peripherals he noticed that Robin had jumped over to another rooftop before he realized that Batman had stopped.

“Uh… I think it’d be better if you came to see for yourself.”

“I’m on my way.” Batman said. He motioned for Robin to follow him as he pulled out his grapple.

Swinging between buildings cut down their travel time significantly and it wasn’t long before they reached the street that Jason had told him to come to. The area was filled with the Gotham City Police, no doubt dealing with the aftermath of a fight and cleaning up the mess.

Red Hood waved at them from a nearby alleyway, keeping out of sight of the GCPD.

Batman swung over to where he was, dropping down next to the Red Hood. “What’s the situation?” He prompted.

“Come see for yourself.” Even through the helmet, Batman could hear the slight waver in his second eldest son’s voice.

He and Robin followed Jason deeper into the alley. Red Robin had already arrived on the scene as well, which wasn’t a surprise as his patrol was closer in proximity than Batman and Robin’s had been. The surprise was that he was cradling a sleeping child in his arms.

Robin stopped beside him. He didn’t have to look at the young boy to picture the sneer on his face as he spoke, “Red Robin. What is the meaning of this?”

“That,” Jason was the one to speak up, pointing over at the child, “is Nightwing.”

The silence was all encompassing. Bruce imagined that if they were in one of those old Western movies that he watched as a child that there would be a tumbleweed blowing between them.

“What.” It wasn’t the most eloquent of answers, but it would have to do for now.

“Somehow Nightwing pissed off the broad that he was up against and she waved this staff that she was carting around and _poof!_ Tiny Nightwing.” Red Hood explained as he made elaborate hand gestures. “The idiot was lucky that I was in the area to save his ass.”

It wasn’t the most thorough explanation, but it was more than enough. This wasn’t the first time that Bruce had dealt with someone regressing in age due to magic, but it was different every single time that it happened. Batman pressed a button on his utility belt to call the Batmobile before he reached to his League communicator to call Zatanna.

-

They had returned to the Cave only moment before Zatanna appeared, Red Robin still carrying a sleeping Nightwing.

The boy had remained asleep even as Zatanna cast a few spells on him. It didn’t take long before she had turned to them and pronounced the spell to be harmless. It would only last a few days before Dick reverted to himself.

As good as it was to hear that no actual harm had befallen Nightwing, Zatanna was not able to ascertain his mental state. The full extent of the spell would only become clear when Dick woke up. They would have to wait and see if Dick had regressed in both physical appearance and mental state. Zatanna had left them with the promise of returning once the spell had worn off to double check that Dick was alright and that she was sorry she couldn’t aid them in any other way.

They decided to lay Dick down on the couch in the living room as they waited for him to wake up. Bruce had sent Damian to his room to gather old clothing and they had dressed Dick before laying him down. The living room was a more ambiguous area to wake up in. Bruce thought that placing him in his old bedroom might only serve to disorient him if he awoke with no memories.

Before long the child started stirring. Tim immediately kneeled down in front of the couch while Jason and Damian remained seated, but their attention was undoubtedly on the child.

The boy groaned, reaching up to rub at his eyes. He yawned loudly as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “Wha’ happened?”

“Hey buddy.” Tim’s voice was soft and gentle as he spoke. “Do you know where you are?”

Dick sat up, leaning against the arm of the couch. He craned his neck as he looked around the room.

Apparently Tim decided that the boy’s silence was tell enough and he put on a reassuring smile. “Do you know who I am?”

The boy completely froze for a moment. His big blue eyes stared down at Tim. His stillness was broken as he stuck his thumb in his mouth, shaking his head as he responded with a grunt.

The tension rose slightly, but the boy was too oblivious to pick up on it as he spoke. “Who’re you?” His words came out mumbled around his thumb.

“My name’s Tim.” Tim placed a hand on his chest before he started naming off the other occupants of them room, naming them as he went around the room. “That’s Damian. Jason. And that’s Bruce.”

Dick mouthed the names silently to himself along with Tim. Within a split second his hesitant expression shifted into a smile as he pulled his thumb out of his mouth. “Oh. My name is Dickie!”

A snort came from Jason, but it quickly turned into a hiss when Damian reached over and pinched his calf. Jason growled, slapping the younger boy’s hands away. It would have devolved into a wrestling match had Bruce not sent a glare their way to stop it before it even started.

“Where am I?”

“This is Wayne manor.” Tim explained.

“Why am I here? I dun remember.”

Tim’s smile steadily became a little more forced with every question that the child asked him. “Your mommy and daddy left you here for a little while. You’re going to be staying here while they do some important work.”

Dickie’s brows furrowed and Bruce was gearing himself to step in if necessary.

“Oh yeah? If Daj and Dat left me here, I think I woulda remembered.” He tugged at his ear.

Jason was the first one to come up with an explanation. “You were sleeping. Your mom asked us to take care of her little Robin.”

Dickie looked around the room again, his brows still furrowed as he undoubtedly took Jason’s words in. Everyone in the room waited with bated breath for him to reply.

Dickie’s face smoothed out into a big smile. “Okay! What’re we gonna do? Can we play a game? Can I have some snacks? I’m hungry. Oh! Where’s the bathroom?”

The barrage of questions came out in rapid succession. So fast, in fact, that Bruce was certain that the child hadn’t even taken a breath in between them.

Luckily for them, Alfred entered the living room carrying a tray with tea. He placed the tray down on the coffee table and walked over to where Dickie was sitting, patiently holding out his hand to the child. “Come along, Young Master Richard. I shall escort you to the bathroom.”

Dickie jumped up happily, not even questioning the butler’s sudden appearance as he took his hand.

“May I ask how old you are?”

“Four! ‘N a half!” The child shouted out as he held up four fingers before they turned around the corner.

Now left alone, Bruce and his other sons were silent. It was Damian that made the first move. He clicked his tongue as he pushed himself up off the floor, tucking his sketch book under his arm before he grabbed a cup of tea and left. Bruce could only assume that he would confine himself to his room.

Tim pulled himself up onto the couch, still staring out into the hallway where Alfred and Dickie had left the room. Jason just groaned from his sideways perch in the arm chair. He leaned over to grab a cup of tea, not even bothering to get up and take a few steps to retrieve it. He overreached and nearly slid out of the chair, barely managing to keep his balance as he pulled the cup to his chest. Jason’s eyes immediately went down to the rug, a worried look in them as he thoroughly inspected the rug to make sure that he hadn’t spilled.

Bruce was still stunned. Dick had been more than twice his current age when they had met. The memories of how rambunctious Dick had been were suddenly fresh in his mind, as if the pre-teen had been roaming through the halls mere minutes before. He didn’t want to imagine how much energy Dickie would be filled with.

With Alfred as his guide it didn’t take Dickie too long to get settled. The butler had given him a brief tour of the first floor before placing the boy in front of the television which was set to cartoons.

Once that was taken care of Bruce slipped into his study. With all the excitement that was going on downstairs, it was a good feeling to be able to retreat to his own area.

The first matter of business that he took care of was contacting Oracle. She had to take a few minutes to compose herself after he told her what happened. When she was done Bruce informed her that he and the boys would be changing their patrol schedules to deal with the situation, and then asked her if her girls could make up for their absences.

Oracle promised that it wouldn’t be a problem as long as Bruce sent her photographic evidence.

After that he settled down in front of his computer. A quick look at his email showed him that Lucius Fox had sent him the same documents four times with the request that he look it over. There was nothing better to do at that moment, so Bruce cracked his knuckles and got to work.

He didn’t look up from his computer again until Alfred came knocking at his door, announcing that dinner would be ready soon and that he was expected to be at the dining table shortly.

Bruce saved and closed all of the documents that he was working on and stretched before he left his study.

The hallway was relatively silent as he walked towards the staircase. He heard a creaking noise in the distance- which could have just been the house, but he knew those noises. This one was different. Bruce stopped in his tracks as he listened closely to try and discern its origin.

The moment that he stopped in his tracks he heard a war cry coming from above him and a second later someone landed on his back.

It was only the fact that he realized that the weight on his back was minimal and that the arms and legs that wrapped around him were small that he didn’t react to them as a threat.

There was a high pitched giggle in his ear as Dickie perched his chin on top of Bruce’s head. “I caught you!”

Bruce reached out, grabbing on Dickie’s thighs as the child started squirming to keep him steady. “Indeed you did. Whatever will you do now?”

“You are now my steed! Hi-ho Zitka! Awaaaaay!”

A skinny arm entered his vision as Dickie pointed towards the stairs in front of them.

“To the dinin’ room!”

Bruce would deny to anyone that he had been smiling as he strode down the stairs with Dickie digging his heels into his sides as they made their way to dinner.

-

It was day three of Dick’s de-aging predicament.

Normally Tim would have returned to his own place by now, as he always did. But it was the thought that Dick would stay with him if something happened to him that kept him at the manor.

Tim hadn’t had to deal with the child much outside of meals.

Dickie had proved that there were a lot of things in the manor to keep him amused. The television was a good distraction, but he loved running around the empty halls of the manor. Tim hadn’t seen this himself, but Alfred had mentioned that he had pulled the boy off of several pieces of furniture, kept him from sliding down the staircase railing twice and had even coaxed him down from the chandelier in the foyer.

After a few days of staying at the manor, Tim’s bedroom was proving to be a bit too stuffy. To be honest, it was also the fact that he didn’t have the heart to look around the room that he had so proudly made his own when he had arrived at the manor. The room and belongings that he had left behind when he had left.

He relocated himself to the library. There were several different Wayne Enterprises dealings that he had to take of that he would be able to look at on his laptop.

Tim was sitting on the comfortable leather couch by the window with his laptop on his knees when he heard a soft sound coming from his left.

“Psst.”

Tim turned towards the source of the sound, spotting Dickie holding onto the arm of the couch with his small hands. Only his unruly mop of hair and bright blue eyes were peeking out over the arm before the young boy giggled and ducked out of sight.

He waited a few moments to see if anything was going to happen before he turned back to his laptop. This report was going to be finished before the end of the day if it was the last thing that he did.

“Hey. Timmy.” A shudder went down Tim’s spine as he turned around, looking at the boy who was leaning over the back of the couch to whisper in his ear. Dickie was most likely standing on a stool because there was no way that he would be able to reach otherwise.

“What’re you doin’?” The child asked him, grunting in exertion and he attempted to pull himself up higher so he could look over Tim’s shoulder at the laptop.

“I’m working.”

Dickie’s nose wrinkled as he stuck his tongue out. “Ew! Work is borin’!” He disappeared from sight once more, his feet thudding against the floor as he jumped down and ran around to the front of the couch. His small hands slapped down on the seat next to Tim. “Come do something with me!”

Tim sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I can’t right now, Dickie. Maybe later.”

The boy whined as he stomped his feet on the ground. Not knowing how to deal with the situation otherwise, Tim just turned his attention back to the laptop to continue reading the report.

At first he thought that his method of ignoring that child had worked. Dickie was still standing next to him, but he wasn’t making any other noise as he simply stared up at Tim.

It was the moment that Tim stretched his arms, his shoulder popping in protest of having been in the same position for hours, that Dickie took his chance and launched himself into Tim’s lap. The child draped himself over Tim’s legs in the small gap between Tim’s abdomen and his knees where his laptop was resting.

Dickie turned onto his back, looking up at Tim with wide eyes and his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Timmy.” He whined.

“Dickie.” Tim sighed. “This is important. I said we could play later.”

The child whined even more as he squirmed in Tim’s lap. “Nooooooooo! I wanna play now!” He rolled onto his side, wrapping his arms around Tim’s waist and burying his face in Tim’s stomach. “Tiiiiiiiimmy!” His name was muffled as Dickie kept on whining.

Tim groaned out loud, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “Fine. But only for a little bit.”

Dickie let out a shriek of delight as he crawled out of Tim’s lap, and – _holy shit that was a bony knee in his crotch_. Tim hissed in discomfort as Dickie ran to the other side of the library. He picked out a large book and toddled back to the couch.

When he returned he pointed at the arm of the couch. “Move back.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at the little boy, who just huffed at him and started waving his finger at the spot. His shoulders dropped in defeat as Tim closed the laptop, placing in on the table and moving back so he was sitting against the arm of the couch.

Once Dickie deemed that he was sitting properly, the boy climbed onto the couch and settled himself between Tim’s legs. He opened up the large book, which had an elaborately written title of _Fairy tales_ emblazoned on the front, and flipped the pages until he reached a story. Dickie leaned back against Tim’s chest, pulling one of Tim’s arms over his shoulders and waited for Tim to start reading.

Deciding that he might as well get it over with so he could go back to his work, Tim started reading.

“Once upon a time there lived an unhappy little girl. Her mother was dead and her father had married a widow with two daughters…”

-

That night Tim was woken up by Alfred hours later with Dickie snoozing softly against his chest and the book of fairy tales still open halfway through Little Red Riding Hood. The report could wait another day, he supposed.

-  
Jason had been camping out in the manor for a few days, only ever leaving when he went out on patrol or had to go out to take care of some of his own business.

Most of the time that he spent at the manor was for a short period. Either in the Cave looking through evidence for a case or having been strong armed into joining the family for dinner by a certain crafty butler.

No matter the circumstance, Jason never stayed long. The longer that he was around the manor, the more memories of his stay during his teenaged years surfaced in his mind. So he was determined to leave and hide out in one of his own safe houses. The family had proven that they could take care of Dickie well enough, so it wasn’t like he was needed anyways.

He grabbed his helmet, cradling it under his arm as he started off towards the garage where he had parked his motorcycle.

As he passed the library he heard a childish voice singing. “A sailor went to sea, sea, sea to see what he could see, see, see!” The voice was horrifically off tune and grating at points. It look like Dick had never been able to sing in the first place. “Titus! No! That’s not how you do it!”

Jason couldn’t help but chuckle as he continued on his way. The only redeeming quality that the manor had the past couple of days was the little bright spot that was Dickie.

The child was very amusing. So far he had gotten away with just about anything. As long as Alfred didn’t catch him, that is.

It had been fucking hilarious to see Alfred standing outside, looking up at the roof when Dick had used the rain pipes to climb up into the gutters.

Jason stopped by the kitchen to see that Alfred was preparing lunch, so he grabbed one of the sandwiches and bit down into it even as Alfred paused to give him a disapproving look. The look hadn’t worked when he was fifteen, so it sure as hell wasn’t going to work now.

“Are you not planning on staying for lunch, Master Jason?” The butler enquired.

Jason shook his head, shoving the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and quickly chewing and swallowing it before he spoke again. (He did have some manners, thank you very much.) “Nah. Got some things to take care of. Might as well get them done.”

Alfred sighed softly, reaching into a cupboard to grab a tupperware and handing it to him. “At the very least take lunch along with you. You boys do tend to forget to take care of yourselves when you’re working.”

Jason gave Alfred a two-fingered salute as he grabbed some sandwiches and shoved as many as he could into the container. No one could cook like Alfred. Even in the sandwich department. There was no harm in taking as many as possible. “Thanks, Alfie. See ya on the flip side.”

Somehow he should have seen it coming when he turned around to corner to get to the garage and was stopped in his tracks by the sight of Dickie standing in front of the door.

“Are you leavin’?” The boy had a dejected look on his face.

“I’ve gotta go out and take care of some things.” He said. It wasn’t like he was going to tell the kid that he was running away in an attempt to rid himself of his demons, preferably with the additional possibility of bashing some faces in to relieve his stress.

“Oh…” The kid trailed off. He tapped his lips with his pointer finger as he started rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Can I come?”

Jason snorted at the thought. Adult Dick already disapproved of the way Jason dealt with things. Not only would he be subjecting a kid to his more than shitty lifestyle, but he was pretty sure that hell had no wrath as Alfred if the man found out he had taken Dickie with him.

“Nah, kiddo.”

The corners of Dickie’s mouth turned down into a frown, his bottom lip already starting to wobble. “Then stay.”

“No can do. It’s important.”

“That’s what Timmy said too! But he still read stories with me!” Dickie protested loudly.

Oh? That was something that Jason hadn’t heard yet. He wondered what the kid had done to get the Replacement’s attention away from his precious work. Tim was just as bad a workaholic as Bruce was. “Nah… Next time, ok?”

Dickie whimpered as he walked over, tugging on Jason’s free hand as he tilted his head to look up at Jason with an even bigger frown on his face. “Pleeeeeaaasseee?”

“No. Now look. I gotta go.” Jason tugged his hand away from Dickie, trying to be more assertive without being too much of an asshole. He had to leave before the kid started bringing out the waterworks, which would happen soon if his watery eyes were any sign.

Jason strode forward, about to make his way into the garage when a weight wrapped around his leg just as he took a step. He almost tripped as his leg was weighed down unexpectedly. He grumbled under his breath as he looked down, seeing that Dickie had sat himself down on top of Jason’s foot and had wrapped himself around Jason’s leg.

“Don’t go!

Jason ran a hand over his face as he tried to keep himself composed. It wasn’t a good idea to smack a little kid, even if it technically was his older brother. “Dickie.”

“No! Jay, no! Don’t go!” The kid looked up at him, blinking those impossibly blue eyes at him. “Please, Jason?”

That was it. It was almost ridiculous how little it took for his resolve to break down. If only the thugs of Gotham were able to see the formidable Red Hood right now. Brought to his knees by a four year-old clinging onto him as he stared up at him and muttered his name pitifully.

“Jeez. Fine. C’mere you big lug.” Jason leaned down as Dickie unraveled himself from his hold on his leg and reached up. He picked him up, settling the boy on his hip as thin arms wrapped around his neck. Dickie rested his forehead against Jason’s throat as he walked back into the manor. “Whatcha wanna do?”

“Can we go outside? I wanna play soccer.”

“Alright kiddo. Let’s go do that.”

-

Damian had determined straight away that he would not let himself get dragged into this nonsense.

He would let Pennyworth deal with the little Grayson, as that was his job as the family servant. Both Todd and Drake had proven themselves weak of mind and let the child sway them into doing what he bid of them.

Even his father had fallen for the child’s wiles.

Damian would not break. Damian would prove to all of them that he was their better.

For the past few days he had done so easily. Granted, he had spent most of his time in his own rooms; only coming out for sustenance and patrols.

It had been going so swimmingly that he almost saw it coming that the door to his bedroom creaked open one day and a small head poked in.

“Dami?”

Little Grayson hadn’t said his name properly once since he had been regressed to the age of four. Even after Damian had insisted that he use his name properly time and time again, the child persisted with the habit of calling him the horrid abbreviation.

“Grayson. Remove yourself from my room.”

The child looked at him, blinking a few times before he slipped into the room through the small opening. Damian sneered as he pushed himself off of his bed, walking over to the child to intercept him before he reached his desk.

“Grayson. I said leave.”

“What’s that?” Grayson quickly changed course and rushed over to the bed where Damian’s sketchbook was laying open on the drawing that he had just been working on.

He hissed under his breath as he jumped after the child, his longer stride assisting him in reaching the bed before the child and closing the sketchbook before he could peer in. Damian turned to scold Grayson and would resort to physical means to remove him from his room if the child didn’t listen to him. Surprisingly, the child was no longer right behind him.

It was the sound of his closet opening that aided him in narrowing down the child’s position. He spotted Grayson just in time to see the child wander into his closet.

“Grayson!” He snapped out as he followed after him, his fists balled at his sides.

The boy was pulling something over his head when Damian arrived. Giggling to himself as he waved around his arms, which had disappeared into the long sleeves of the garment. Damian recognized it as a hoodie that Grayson, the elder, had given to him as a present previously. It looked ridiculous on the little Grayson. From the looks of it, his short arms only reached about halfway through the sleeves and the hem was hanging down by his knees.

Nonetheless, little Grayson had a wide grin on his face as he brought his sleeve covered hands up to his mouth and giggled into the soft gray fabric. “What’s this?” He asked as he pointed at the bat logo on his chest.

“It is the symbol of Batman.” Damian found himself explaining.

Little Grayson looked up at him, his mouth round as he let out an inquisitive sound. “Oh. Who’s he?”

“Batman is the protector of Gotham.”

“Oh. I like it!” The child brushed past him, wandering back into his rooms.

Damian sighed as he slammed the closet door shut. “Grayson.” The child turned towards him. “If I allow you to borrow the garment, will you leave my rooms?”

The child pulled the hood up over his head, a mockery in a sad attempt to represent his father’s cowl. Grayson’s eyes looked small in the eyeholes and the pointed ears on top were floppy and hanging crookedly. “Only if you come with me.”

“Tt. Fine.” Damian bit out. He turned on his heel and strode out of his room, slapping the child’s hand away as he tried to hold Damian’s hand.

Little Grayson whined under his breath as he followed Damian, no doubt not happy with Damian’s reactions and having trouble walking due to the length of the hoodie and the too big cowl obscuring his vision.

Damian walked down into the living room, following the sounds in hope that he would be able to dump the child with whoever was present. Surprisingly he spotted his father and his other so-called brothers. Todd was sitting on the couch, his feet planted on the coffee table with Drake next to him as they watched a documentary on the television. His father was sitting in the large armchair as he read the newspaper.

“Rawr! I’m Batman!” Grayson growled out from behind him, his voice low and gritty as he attempted to emulate the Dark Knight. “Dami! I’m Batman!” The child bounded up next to him, tugging on Damian’s arm in a feeble attempt to get his attention.

Damian scowled as he pulled his arm away and made a point of shoving the child to get him to back off.

Unfortunately it seemed that he had overestimated Grayson’s balance and the child tumbled to the ground, his head smacking hard against the floor.

Everyone froze at the same time as silence filled the room. Damian could feel the disapproving looks that were pointed his way as they all waited to see what would happen.

Instead of bawling, like he would expect a child to do, Grayson just held up his sleeve-covered arms and waved them back and forth as he screamed, “Bruce Wayne down! _Bruce Wayne down!”_

Damian heard a snorting noise and turned just in time to see Drake holding a hand up to his nose as whatever fizzy drink he had been consuming spurted out as he tried to hold in his laughter. Todd had moved up onto his knees, leaning over Drake and using his back to rest on as he held out his mobile phone, undoubtedly filming Grayson scream out and flail his arms around. His father’s mouth was twitching and he caught Damian’s eyes before subtly moving the newspaper up to cover the smile that was threatening to spill over his lips.

“I said _Bruce Wayne down_ ,” came the exasperated voice of little Grayson. The child had pushed himself up, the hooded cowl half hanging over his face. “Will no one help?”

“Looks like you’re going just fine on your own, kiddo.” Todd said with a snort as Drake started trying to shove him away.

Grayson’s lips curled up into a pout. “Fine! I don’t need your help. I’m Bat Wayne! I mean Bruceman! Crap!” Grayson tried to scramble up to his feet, slipping as his fabric covered hands glided over the floor before he managed to push himself up with a squeal of delight.

Todd was the only one that spoke in the silence that followed in the room as the child’s squeals echoed through the hall. “That was great. Babs is so getting a kick out of this.”

At this point, even Drake had managed to compose himself. He held a tissue up to his nose. “Wait. I thought we weren’t telling him that Bruce was Batman.”

Their eyes all moved back and forth between each other as they tried to determine the culprit.

-

It was on the eighth day that everything returned to normal. As normal as the household could get.

As delightful as it had been to have a child running around the manor again, it was quite the pleasant sight to see Master Richard come downstairs. Most likely having returned to his appropriate age overnight.

The young Master Richard had been quite exuberant at times and whilst Alfred had enjoyed having the small boy around, it would be quite the weight off of his shoulders knowing that he wouldn’t have to follow him around to make sure that he didn’t damage anything in the manor or himself.

Master Richard entered the kitchen with a smile on his lips, dressed in ratty old training clothes that he had surely pulled out of the closet in his bedroom.

“Good morning, Alfred.”

“Good morning, Master Richard.” He replied as the young man walked to the refrigerator.

Richard grabbed the milk carton and opened it up, already tilting it up so he could drink straight out of it. One look had him chuckling sheepishly and reaching into a cabinet to grab a glass.

“Thanks for taking care of me this week.” Richard spoke up as he poured himself a glass of milk and placed the carton back.

Alfred hummed softly. “It was quite the pleasure. I just ask that you be more careful the next time that you encounter a spell caster.”

Richard walked up next to him, slinging an arm over his shoulders and pulling him close in a one armed hug. “Well do, Alfred my good man.”

-

Dick was in the library, holding the large book of fairy tales that had been left out when a soft knock echoed from the entrance way.

He turned around and a smile immediately settled on his lips when he saw Damian standing in the doorway, looking around with a frown and shuffling on his feet.

“Hey there, little D. What’s up?”

Damian clicked his tongue at him as he scowled. The boy strode forward and stopped right in front of Dick, placing his hands on his hips as he looked up at him.

“Grayson. Pennyworth informed me that you had returned to yourself.”

Dick chuckled under his breath, moving a few books aside to make room for the fairy tale tome. “Yup. As you can see, I’m right as rain.”

“This is…adequate.” Dick was about to turn around to ask Damian what he had come for when arms wrapped around his waist. He only hesitated for a few seconds before he wrapped his arms around Damian’s shoulders. As far as he could remember, this was the first time that Damian had reached out and hugged him of his own volition. It was quite the shock.

“You are to avoid being hit by age regression spells ever again.” Damian muttered, but still with an underlying commanding tone. “You are better when you are yourself.”

Dick couldn’t help but coo at the words. He reached up to ruffled Damian’s hair, but his hand was batted away as Damian stepped back. The scowl was still on the boy’s face, but Dick was sure that he saw a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Do not look so smug. I merely say that because you are of more use to me when you are an adult.” With those words, Damian turned around and stalked out of the library. He expertly avoided Alfred as the butler walked in through the doorway with a tray.

The butler looked after Damian before turning back, raising a sleek gray eyebrow at the sight of the big grin on Dick’s face.

“When are you planning on telling your father and brothers that you were completely sound of mind this past week?”

Dick laughed out loud at the words. “Of course you knew.”

“I had my suspicions. Children aren’t as intuitive to adults’ weaknesses as you were. You knew exactly what to say and what to do to draw their attentions to you. Your words in the kitchen earlier confirmed my suspicions.”

“Eh, what’s the fun in telling them?” Dick smirked as he picked up a mug of coffee and held it to his lips. “How else is someone supposed to get cuddles without complaints in this place?”

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on [Tumblr](http://flashthroughlight.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Masteroftobi's tiny cousin was pushed over by his brother and, while wearing a Batman hoodie, flailed and screamed BRUCE WAYNE DOWN whilst on the floor. You may thank them for this.


End file.
